She is not proactive.
She doesn't chase her prey.
She knows that with time,
or accident,
or illness,
they'd fall into her embrace.
Some come running
and she welcomes them home.
Everyone came to her eventually,
so she let fate rule.
Loved, feared
and hated.
She is the poet of her land
with no knowledge
of her own people.
Her legacy left
on plaques
across the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A golden legacy on a poem